A/N: Sending apologies for the long delay. For those of you interested, the residency visa is going well. Thanks for all the new adds and reviews, even those who have came through in the last week for both Part One and Part Two.

Gibbs swung the government-issue sedan against the curb outside of the shelter and the three men climbed out, Gibbs and DiNozzo both checking their firearms before they started off toward the building. Vance followed, falling easily into step beside them, his eyes sweeping the eerily silent scape before him. Even the youth center was quiet, which was unusual for this part of the city. He cast a sideways glace at the older man beside him, but said nothing, his gut giving an awkward clench in preparation for what he might see. Gibbs had said nothing, but the tense set of his shoulders suggested that he should prepare for the worst.

Gibbs nodded to his senior field agent, motioning for him to take point as they approached the door. DiNozzo moved forward, grasping the doorknob as Gibbs raised his firearm. A curt nod sent the door flying open and the three men crept inside, two guns raised and searching for anything that moved. The smell that greeted their noses would have caused normal men to gag, but they schooled their reaction, breathing shallowly through their mouths.

Vance forced himself not to gape, coming face-to-face with the floor-to-ceiling coating of blood that seemed to cover the room. Decomposing bodies, all women that he could tell, littered the floor. Valkyries.

Gibbs returned his firearm to his holster and Tony followed suit, continuing through the room, picking over the bodies as the senior agent described what had happened. He pulled open a door at the back of the facility, showing the director where the soldiers had been kept before their sacrifice, where three bloated bodies were now stacked, their eyes staring blankly up at the new men. The effect was overwhelming, sending the director heading back toward the front door for fresh air.

Closing the door firmly behind them, Gibbs and Tony trekked after the other man, closing the building against the smell as they gathered at the front of the building. Vance took great gulps of the fresh air, his eyes watering slightly.

"This can't be left like this, Gibbs," Vance finally spoke, his voice quavering. He glanced at the senior agent, then back at the building. "We can't...we can't let this get out. The other agencies...they can't know. This will ruin us."

"I don't think we're gonna have a choice, Leon," Gibbs said quietly. "Can't keep something like this under wraps. I could talk to Fornell..."

"No." Vance found himself pacing, his hands firmly against his hips. "Not yet." He worried his bottom lip, mulling over their options. "Need to...get this building secured. Gotta make a few phone calls..." He moved away from them, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

Tony looked over at his boss, a slightly amused look crossing his face before he hid it away, knowing the moment was serious. It hadn't, however, gone unnoticed.

"I expected as much," Gibbs murmured, nodding toward the director.

"Any idea how we're gonna keep this under wraps?" Tony asked instead, clearly worried.

Gibbs sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe...divine intervention?" He seemed hopeful, but he had no idea where to place his hope. Something of this scale would be otherwise impossible to keep quiet. Eventually, the smell would alert locals that something was wrong. Eventually, someone would come seeking asylum at the facility and would discover the mess. Something had to be done, and it had to be done on their terms.

Vance hung up the phone, turning absently back to the two men who stood quietly to the side, waiting for his orders. He shook his head, his hand trembling as he raised it to drag across his mouth.

"Well?" Gibbs asked expectantly.

"Crew will be here within the hour to clean up. All bodies will be taken back to NCIS headquarters. Ducky needs to be there."

Gibbs nodded.

"Gonna have to take our chances with media leaks, I'm afraid."

Gibbs nodded again. They could expect nothing less.

"If this...angel thing...is real..." Vane struggled with his words, unsure of what to say, "I mean, I'll have to address the agency directors...all of them. I'll have to brief the SecNav...hell, this may go all the way to the top."

Tony flinched. They knew it had been a possibility, but hearing it threw them off balance.

"Guess all that's left is for you to meet Castiel, then," Gibbs said instead, gesturing toward the car.

Vance wiped his palms against his suit pants, forcing his legs to work and propel him back to the car. He was silent for the duration of the ride back to Gibbs' house, and he had to force himself to face the unknown, counting his steps as they made their way to the front door.

Gibbs hung his jacket on the peg by the doorway and laid his gun on the shelf by the door, announcing their return to the house. Dean stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes immediately coming to rest on the newcomer in the room, apprehension stilling his tongue. Without having been told, he had to guess that this was Gibbs' boss, and that their cover had been blown.

"Relax, Dean," Gibbs murmured, stepping by him to round up the others from the kitchen, herding everyone into the living room.

Vance stood stoically by the couch, looking over the dirty, trench-coat clad man that was stretched over the length of the seat. After a long moment, he drug his eyes from the man he figured to be the angel to find Sam and Dean studying him from by the stairs. He found them vaguely familiar, as if he'd seen them somewhere before.

It took several long minutes, but eventually, the full team was assembled in the living room; the uneasiness was palpable.

Tony cleared his throat, motioning toward the sofa. "So, yeah, um...this is Castiel, the trench-coat-wearing angel."

"Doesn't look like much of an angel to me," Vance murmured, finding his voice. "Aren't they supposed to have...wings and halos?"

"I think Cas here might've lost halo privileges a while ago," Dean answered gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest, "but he's got the wings...when he wants to show 'em."

"His vessel is human," Sam supplied quietly.

"And who are you two? You look familiar." Vance studied them openly.

"I'm Sam, and this is Dean. Winchester."

"We were on pretty much every agency wanted list there for a good long while," Dean retorted.

"Why shouldn't I have you all arrested? Every single one of you." He rounded back on the team leader. "Gibbs, do you have any idea of the position you have put me...and the agency in?"

Wordlessly, Bobby pushed by the director, kneeling beside the couch, pulling something from his pocket. "Cas, need ya to come around," he murmured, waving what appeared to be smelling salts under the angel's nose. It did the trick, sending the semi-conscious angel into a coughing fit, his eyes opening blearily to the room. With a firm hand, Bobby helped Cas sit up, sliding into a supportive position behind him.

"Wh-what's goin' on?" Castiel managed, his words slurred together in weakness. It would be a full day or more before he was fully recovered. Slowly, he settled, his tired eyes coming to rest on the man standing at the foot of the couch. "Leon Vance."

He nodded once.

Castiel glanced around the room before settling back on the director. "We have much to discuss."

tbc...